Never An Absolution
by Audrey-Lazzara
Summary: Will Grace Andrews lose more than she gains on the fateful first crossing of Titanic?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hello, readers. This is the first fan fiction I've written. This story is purely a work of fiction and while employing the use of my artistic license, I have tried to make many details as historically accurate as possible. Grace Andrews, her mother, and her friend Lily are all fictional characters which I am weaving into this historical event, and they belong to me. I shall be using James Cameron's characters in this story because I like them...as characters, and they will help with plot development. Furthermore, when writing this I pictured these people looking and acting as they did in his movie. I know it isn't an accurate depiction of some characters, but I prefer it in some instances to the truth. For example, I prefer James Cameron's depiction of Harold Lowe as a selfless hero versus the historical depictions of him being a flippant racist - no offense to Mr. Lowe or his family. The only people I shall be painting in a negative light are J. Bruce Ismay and some of the fictional movie characters I mentioned previously. Also, I have yet to decide if Ellen Whitehouse will exist in this fan fiction or not...it depends on how I decide to end the story. I believe that is all that I need to say about my story. I hope you enjoy it.

Never an Absolution

Chapter 1

She sat patiently on the train, staring absentmindedly out the window as the English countryside rushed past. In about an hour she would be reunited with her father for the first time in almost four years. She fidgeted nervously in her seat, picking at the charcoal grey fabric of her wool skirt.

Grace Andrews was not the typical debutante girl. When she was five years old her mother died of pneumonia, leaving her father to raise her. He did as any father would do and sent her to the finest academy in Belfast, paid for piano lessons, and doted upon her often. However, he never spent much time at home and, therefore, nor did Grace. Her father, Thomas Andrews, spent the majority of his time at Harland and Wolff, where he was employed as a naval architect and master shipbuilder. On afternoons when Grace was not at her grandparents for piano lessons or with her best friend, Lily, she was at Harland and Wolff with her father. She grew up there. Learning to draw, do mathematics, and the mechanics and components of a ship from her father and his co-workers. She had spent many summer holidays sailing on these great vessels with her father, and she fancied she knew most all there was to know about ships and life at sea.

When she was fourteen, and just finished at the academy, her father remarried. Grace had been looking forward to spending as much time with her father as possible, but her new stepmother had different plans. She declared Grace too free spirited and insisted she be sent to a finishing school in London. "No man will want to marry a girl so stubborn and completely lacking all feminine grace and charm. Finishing school will teach her to behave as a lady should and prepare her for marriage. You do want her to marry well, don't you, Thomas?" Grace recalled sitting on the steps in the hall and overhearing that conversation, a conversation that would be her condemnation. So in September 1908, Grace began finishing school in London. She knew her father only had her best interests at heart. That had been almost four years ago. She and her father had written often, and his letters were her greatest joy. She hated finishing school. She hated the nonsense they tried to put into her head, and she hated the girls who were her classmates. They were all selfish and spoiled, and they clung to the lessons they were taught as if they were actually important.

Grace had been relieved when Lily, her closest friend, had invited her to spend time with her at her aunt's and uncle's in America. Her father's consent was readily given, and she was even more relieved when her father wrote to her and said he was pulling her out of finishing school early so they could travel together to America. She was now on her way to Southampton from London to meet her father.

The thought of seeing her father made her nervous. What if he didn't recognize her? When she left Ireland she was only fourteen, but she was now eighteen years old and very much changed. What if she didn't recognize him? What if things were awkward between them because it had been so long? Or, worse yet, what if her stepmother had changed him? She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She opened her eyes and glanced at the clock at the front of the train: half an hour until she was due in Southampton. She leaned back in her seat and, closing her eyes, took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves.

At two-thirty the train pulled into the station. They were early. The other passengers on the train began to collect their belongings and leave, but Grace remained in her seat. "Do you need some help, miss?" The voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked up into the kind face of the older gentleman who had occupied the seat across the aisle from her.

"No…thank you," she replied, forcing a polite smile.

She, then, slowly stood and collected her hat and small carry-on trunk from the seat next to her. She arranged them so that she was holding them in the same hand and stepped into the aisle and began making her way to the exit ahead.

When she reached the platform, she stepped out of the way of the doors to the train and glanced around, anxiously looking for her father amongst the people in the crowd. Her anxiety grew when she did not see him. However, after a moment, the crowd moved on and she spotted her father, craning his neck in search of her. When their eyes met he smiled warmly at her, and Grace practically ran over to him. She threw herself into his open arms and giggled when he lifted her up and spun her around, just as he had done when she was younger. He placed her firmly on the ground and took a step away from her before saying, "Let me look at you, Grace. You've grown so much, and you're so beautiful. What happened to the little girl I sent away?"

Grace smiled shyly and replied, "Daddy, it's still me. I just look a little different."

"Of course it is, darling. Come. Let's collect your luggage."

He took the small carry-on trunk from her and offered his arm. She gladly accepted it and they made their way to the car. To her surprise her trunks were already there, being loaded by a porter onto the car. When he had finished, they climbed into the car and made their way to the South Western Hotel, which was settled near the Southampton docks.

* * *

Once her trunks had been placed in her hotel room, Grace and her father left to tour Southampton. He insisted he had something to show her, and so he did. There, at the docks of Southampton, was the largest ship Grace had ever seen. Her name was Titanic. Grace had read about Titanic, of course, and knew that she was the largest and most luxurious ship afloat. She'd also heard rumors that the ship was unsinkable, thanks to new innovations, but she wondered how something made of steel could not be sinkable.

"Well, what do you think?" her father questioned.

"It's breathtaking."

"She is 882 feet and 9 inches in length, and she stands 59 feet from water line to boat deck. She's the first to…"

"Father, she's yours? You created her? I didn't realize…" She cut him off, awestruck by the realization.

He smiled proudly at Grace's enthusiasm, "I'm glad you like her, and tomorrow, Grace, we'll be going on her maiden voyage."

"You mean we're travelling to America on Titanic?"

"Of course, Gracie. That's why I pulled you out of school early. I can't wait for you to see her. I'm giving you a tour first thing."

Grace stood there for a moment, staring up at the great ship before turning to her father, "May I see the blueprints?"

He chuckled genuinely, "Yes, Grace, after dinner."

He offered his arm and, taking one last look at Titanic, she allowed him to escort her to dinner.

* * *

They talked at dinner, catching up with one another. He talked about her stepmother, Helen, and Elizabeth, and showed her a picture of the three of them together. Elizabeth. Her half-sister. She remembered when her father had written that Elizabeth was born. She had been born the day before Grace's birthday. She was two now and Grace had yet to meet her.

The conversation then turned to Grace and she told her father all about finishing school and how dreadful it was. "I'd hardly call it school. There was absolutely no stimulation of the mind. We were only taught how to stimulate the male mind. And they tested our posture every week by making us walk around with books on our heads. It was all rather silly." He laughed heartily at her accounts. He inquired after Lily, to which Grace replied, in a false voice, "In excellent health and enjoying America very much. My aunt has been introducing me to young men, and there is one I find quite amiable." At this, they both laughed.

When they had finished eating, her father asked, "Shall we return to the hotel and have a glance at those blueprints?"

"Yes, please!" she answered enthusiastically.

* * *

"It's extraordinary. You've really outdone yourself this time, father."

"Thank you, Grace. I'm glad you approve. You should begin preparing for bed. We're boarding early tomorrow, and I want you to be ready when I call."

"Yes, father. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Gracie."

He collected the blueprints, kissed her forehead and closed the door to her room behind him. Grace readied herself for bed, wondering if she'd be able to sleep that night with all the excitement. However, it wasn't long after she climbed into bed that she was sound asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Hello, readers. This is the first fan fiction I've written. This story is purely a work of fiction and while employing the use of my artistic license, I have tried to make many details as historically accurate as possible. Grace Andrews, her mother, and her friend Lily are all fictional characters which I am weaving into this historical event, and they belong to me. I shall be using James Cameron's characters in this story because I like them...as characters, and they will help with plot development. Furthermore, when writing this I pictured these people looking and acting as they did in his movie. I know it isn't an accurate depiction of some characters, but I prefer it in some instances to the truth. For example, I prefer James Cameron's depiction of Harold Lowe as a selfless hero versus the historical depictions of him being a flippant racist - no offense to Mr. Lowe or his family. The only people I shall be painting in a negative light are J. Bruce Ismay and some of the fictional movie characters I mentioned previously. Also, I have yet to decide if Ellen Whitehouse will exist in this fan fiction or not...it depends on how I decide to end the story. I believe that is all that I need to say about my story. I hope you enjoy it.

Never an Absolution

Chapter 2

Grace was awakened early the following morning by a firm, but polite knocking on her hotel room door. She stumbled groggily out of bed and grabbed her robe, putting it on as she walked to the door. She opened the door and was greeted by a maid employed by the hotel. "Good morning, miss," the woman said. "Your father sent for me to help you get ready."

"Thank you," Grace mumbled before crossing to one of the two windows in her room. The South Western Hotel in Southampton overlooked the White Star Line docks, and Grace had been fortunate enough to have a room with a view of them. She marveled at the large ship through her window and watched as the dock around it slowly began to come to life with crewmembers, workers, and early arriving passengers milling about. She could hear the small sound of dishes clinking coming from behind as the maid worked to set her breakfast on the table. She was pulled away from the magnificent view only when the maid called her over to the table. Reluctantly, Grace left the window and crossed the room to sit at the table and eat her breakfast. She nibbled on a piece of toast as she watched the maid straighten her bed linens and pack the clothes she had worn yesterday, which had been cleaned overnight.

The maid then turned to her and asked, "What would you like to wear today, miss?"

Grace stared back at her for a moment, thinking, before finally responding, "I don't know. You can decide if you'd like."

This statement seemed to confuse the maid. She stared quizzically at Grace for a moment before turning to her trunks. Grace studied the woman as she worked. She was older, probably in her fifties, with grey hair that was pulled into a tight chignon and skin that was tanned and weathered by the sun. Her thin lips were pursed and her eyes were squinted in concentration. After a few moments the woman pulled an ensemble from Grace's trunks. She placed it delicately across the bed before entering the bathroom to prepare Grace's bath.

* * *

Grace stood in her hotel room and stared at herself in the full length mirror. She had to admit that the maid had done wonders for her appearance. Grace looked the part of the lady she ought to be. However, the woman could not change her heart. She sighed heavily as the maid placed an oversized hat atop her head and ensured its placement with a hatpin. When she had finished, she stepped back to admire her work, "You look lovely, miss."

"You do look lovely." The two women turned quickly towards the door, only to find her father standing in the doorway."

"Are you ready, darling?" Her father asked.

"Yes, father," she replied.

He motioned to someone in the hallway, and she watched as two men entered to retrieve her trunks from her room.

"Shall we?" He questioned, offering his arm. She accepted it graciously and allowed him to escort her through the hotel. She was glad when they stepped outside and she could breathe the fresh air. She could smell the sea and longed to feel the cool water on her feet like she had as a child. However, she knew that she would not get that opportunity, at least not until they had reached America. As they made their way toward the dock that housed the great ship, Grace could feel the excitement growing inside her.

As they approached the gangway, someone from behind them called, "Thomas." They both turned and saw a man walking towards them. He was tall, but not nearly as tall as her father. He was thin, too, with dark brown hair and a thick mustache, and he wore a brown suit.

"Mr. Ismay," her father greeted with a warm smile. The two men shook hands before her father continued, "You remember my daughter, Grace? Grace, this is Bruce Ismay, Chairman of the White Star Line Company."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir," she said softly as Mr. Ismay politely placed a kiss upon her hand.

"The pleasure is all mine," he responded. The two men began to talk and Grace turned her attention to the massive ocean liner before her. She looked up at the ship that towered over the dock and the buildings around it. She marveled at the size of it and was anxious to explore its decks.

"…Grace?" Her father's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Yes father?" She questioned.

Both men chuckled at her reply and her father said, "We were just wondering if you were ready to go aboard?"

"Yes, of course," she exclaimed enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up. The men chuckled at her once again, before leading her onto the ship.

* * *

Once aboard the ship, they parted ways with Mr. Ismay and made their way to their staterooms. Grace got a quick look at the reception room as they walked towards the staircase. She was awestruck by everything she saw. The first class reception room had white walls and ceilings with intricate designs on them, and there were wicker tables and chairs inviting you to enjoy afternoon tea with them. The staircase was made of oak and had intricate black and gold ironwork for balustrades. Grace had never seen anything quite so beautiful.

As Grace and her father ascended the staircase they did not talk. There was no need for conversation. Grace could survey the ship without his guidance. They climbed slowly, though, and she knew he did this so that she could take everything in. When they reached the A deck, Grace had to stop in her tracks. She stood in place for a moment, craning her neck for a better look before her father said, "Why don't you go have a look, instead of hurting your neck." She smiled at his teasing her, and then made her way to the bottom of the staircase. She stepped onto the first step and touched the feet of the bronze cherub sitting on the middle railing at the bottom of the staircase, and then looked up at the large glass dome. She did not realize that she had quit breathing until the discomfort had built up in her chest. She took a deep breath and slowly made her way up the staircase to the landing, where there was an intricately carved clock. She lightly traced her finger over the design before turning to her father and proclaiming, "It's magnificent, father. No ship will ever compare."

"Thank you, Gracie, but I'm sure there will be others that will surpass her."

"Maybe in fifty years," she laughed. He shared in her laughter, and led her towards their staterooms when she had rejoined him at the foot of the stairs. Their staterooms were behind the grand staircase, towards the bow of the ship. They turned down a narrow hallway that had the same white ceilings and walls as the reception room, and then he opened the door to her stateroom.

Her stateroom had oak paneled walls and, inside the upper panels, there was olive wallpaper with a gold scroll design. A large canopy bed adorned with olive bedding that had the same gold scroll pattern on it as the wallpaper, and solid olive curtains on the bed posts was the focal point of the room. The furniture was all made of oak and the curtains on the window were the same as the ones on the bed posts. She turned to her father and smiled, "It's beautiful. Thank you."

He smiled warmly back at her before saying, "You're welcome. My room is just across the hall from you." He paused for a moment and then continued, "I'm afraid I must leave you for now. Duty calls, but I shall come and get you before departure. I'm anxious for Captain Smith to see you after all these years. Your trunks should be arriving soon, so you can get to work unpacking them and settling in for our journey." He then kissed her forehead and was off.

Grace decided to do as he suggested and wait on her trunks. She had plenty of time to explore the ship, and she knew her father wanted to give her a tour. So she removed her hat and lay across her bed, and waited for the arrival of her trunks and the stewardess that would assist her with unpacking.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Hello readers. First of all I would just like to thank all of you for reading my story, and for the kind words of support I have received from several of you. I am very pleased that you guys are enjoying it, and I have to admit that I never imagined it would be as successful as it has been thus far. This is the first fan fiction I've written. This story is purely a work of fiction and while employing the use of my artistic license I have tried to make many details as historically accurate as possible. Grace Andrews, her mother, and her friend Lily are all fictional characters, which I am weaving into this historical event, and they belong to me. I shall be using James Cameron's characters in this story because I like them...as characters, and they will help with plot development. Furthermore, when writing this I pictured these people looking and acting as they did in his movie. I know it isn't an accurate depiction of some characters, but I prefer it in some instances to the truth. For example, I prefer James Cameron's depiction of Harold Lowe as a selfless hero versus the historical depictions of him being a flippant racist - no offense to Mr. Lowe or his family. The only people I shall be painting in a negative light are J. Bruce Ismay and some of the fictional movie characters I mentioned previously. Also, I have yet to decide if Ellen Whitehouse will exist in this fan fiction or not...it depends on how I decide to end the story. I believe that is all that I need to say about my story. I hope you enjoy it.

Never an Absolution

Chapter 3

At about eleven o'clock, there was a knock at Grace's door. "Come in," she said while putting away the last few pieces of her clothing. She turned towards the door as it opened and was not surprised to see her father standing there, his black bowler hat in hand.

"I've come to see if you would like to visit the bridge. I am expected there, and I thought you might enjoy seeing it and meeting the ship's officers as well as being reacquainted with Captain Smith."

"I'd love to," she replied as she grabbed her hat off the table. She went to the mirror and placed it atop her head, securing it with the hatpin, and then she followed her father out of the room.

They made their way to the grand staircase and ascended it one level to the boat deck. A steward dressed in black pants and a black jacket opened the door for them. Grace's father extended his arm, insisting she go first. She stepped outside and was overwhelmed by the amount of people that had flooded the boat deck to bid farewell to Southampton. They were on the port side of the ship, the side that was docked. Her father placed his hand on her back, urging her onward. They crossed over to the officers' promenade and entered the bridge.

Mr. Ismay was there, conversing with Captain Smith and several other gentlemen. Grace recognized the captain immediately from her encounters with him as a young girl. He had changed very little, having only grown more white-haired from the last time she saw him. Several of the men in the group appeared to be reporters, and she recognized that two of them were officers due to their black service dress. Her father made his way over to the men, and she followed reluctantly. Grace was terribly shy and thought herself horrible at introductions. She stopped a short distance away from the group of men, which now also included her father, and observed their interaction. The reporters began questioning him almost immediately and she smiled as she watched her father handle the bombardment of questions with ease. The reporters then asked Mr. Ismay if they could get a few pictures of him for their papers, and the group was broken.

Her father turned to her and held out his hand, beckoning for her to come forward. She did as she was expected and joined the remaining men. "Captain Smith, this is my daughter, Grace," he said.

"Grace?" Captain Smith questioned. "The last time I saw you, you were a child and now you're a young lady, and a beautiful one at that."

She blushed as he kissed her hand and spoke a quiet, "Thank you."

He smiled kindly, warmly at her. Her father then continued. "This is Chief Officer Henry Wilde," he said motioning to the man to the right of Captain Smith. She shook his hand, giving him a small smile. "And this is First Officer William Murdoch," he said motioning to the man on the left. He, too, shook Grace's hand and offered her a comforting grin. Several other officers joined their ranks, and Grace was introduced to them in turn. After the Chief and First officers, Grace was introduced to Fourth Officer Joseph Boxhall, Third Officer Herbet Pittman, and Second Officer Charles Lightoller. The eight of them stood talking for a moment before the reporters and Mr. Ismay returned. The reporters requested that the Captain and the Officers be photographed next. Grace watched curiously as Mr. Lightoller crossed to the starboard side of the ship as if looking for something. At about that time, two young officers appeared around the corner. Mr. Lightoller turned and nodded to the reporters. The men then made their way to join the three officers on the starboard side and disappeared around the corner, leaving Grace with her father and Mr. Ismay.

* * *

That brief moment was all he'd needed. He had seen her standing there, looking utterly lost amongst the group of men. Her petite frame probably contributed to the helplessness he perceived, but the expression on her face confirmed it. He followed the reporters to their desired destination and seized the opportunity to question Lightoller. "Who was that girl on the bridge?"

"That's Grace Andrews, Mr. Andrews' daughter." The two men said nothing more. Harold Lowe got into position as the reporters ordered and stood pensively as they snapped photographs. He was glad when they declared they were finished and returned to the bridge with the others.

* * *

"Well, what do you think of Titanic so far, Miss Andrews?" Mr. Ismay asked her.

"She's breathtaking. I cannot imagine anything more beautiful or powerful."

"Do you like your stateroom?" He persisted.

"It's lovely," she replied, not sure what else to say.

"Well, I'm sure that your father will be showing you around." He paused for a moment before continuing, "You must visit the gymnasium. It's on the starboard side, just behind the bridge. And you must visit the swimming bath. It is located on Deck F. I'm quite sure everyone will enjoy using it. Did you know, Miss Andrews, that there are four restaurants available for first class passengers in addition to the dining saloon? I am sure that you will dine at them all before we dock at New York." He continued on like this for some time, praising not only the ship but himself as well. She began forming her opinion of Mr. Ismay, and although he seemed to be a pleasant man, he was a little too pompous for Grace's taste.

She was relieved when the captain, officers, and reporters returned. However, her relief was not for long. The reporters requested to photograph her father next. He left with them, promising Grace that he would not be long.

Grace was relieved when Mr. Ismay and Captain Smith engaged in conversation, and took the opportunity to slip away. She left the partially enclosed bridge for the open deck on the port side, and stepped up onto the small landing that lined the forward section of the bridge. She leaned against the banister and watched the crowds on the decks below bidding farewell to the people on the dock.

"Good day, miss," a man with a Welsh accent said behind her. She turned in the direction of the voice and found one of the young officers she had failed to meet standing there. "Do you mind if I join you?" he continued.

"Of course not," she answered, offering a small smile. He then stepped up onto the landing beside her and stood erect with his hands clasped behind his back, watching the same crowds she had just been observing.

* * *

When the captain and officers had returned to the bridge, Harold was amused to find the young woman engaged in what appeared to be a very painful conversation with Mr. Ismay. The relief that flooded her face at their return was quickly wiped away when she learned that her father was next to be photographed. He watched as she managed a quick, unnoticed getaway and decided to follow her.

He studied her for a moment. Her boarding suit was a deep navy and royal blue, and her hat matched perfectly. He noticed the dark brown curls that peeked from underneath her hat and her pale skin, which was considered idealistic for women of her status. He smiled to himself, amused at her relaxed position and lack of awareness of his presence. "Good day, miss," he finally said. He could tell by the expression on her face that he had caught her completely off guard so he continued in hopes of easing her discomfort, "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Of course not," she replied after a few moments. He appreciated the small, awkward smile she offered him and stood next to her on the landing. He turned his attention to the crowds, trying not to stare at her. However, he did not miss her quizzical observation of him, nor did he miss her blush as she turned away when she realized she had been staring at him.

He decided to break the silence and turned to her before asking, "How are you enjoying Titanic so far, miss?

"I am enjoying it very much," she replied, turning to meet his gaze. He took the opportunity to study her face. She had uniquely hazel eyes that were brown with a thin green ring encircling the outside of them. Her lips were small and seemed to be naturally vibrant. Her features were not extraordinary but they suited her very well. Perhaps she was not the most beautiful woman in the world, but she was beautiful. Most importantly, in his opinion, the fire in her eyes would sully even the most beautiful of women.

"Excellent," he finally replied. "Fifth Officer Harold Lowe at your service, miss," he said tilting his head a bit and smiling warmly at her.

"Grace Andrews," she replied shaking his hand.

* * *

Grace appreciated the young officer's feeble attempts at conversation because she was not brave enough to begin one herself. However, she was relieved when she heard her father's voice behind her, "I see you've had the pleasure of meeting Officer Lowe, Grace."

She turned to face him, smiling genuinely, and replied, "Yes, father. He was keeping me company while you were with the reporters."

"Then I must thank you, Officer Lowe, for keeping my daughter entertained while I was away."

"It was my pleasure, sir. If you'll excuse me, I must tend to my duties. It is almost time to set sail." Officer Lowe stepped down from the landing and addressed Grace's father before he turned to her and said, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Andrews, and I hope you enjoy your journey."

She smiled a real smile at his words and said a soft, "Thank you." She stared after him as he walked into the bridge. Her father joined her on the landing, and Grace quickly turned her attention back toward the crowds below her.

Her father pulled out his watch, checked it, and put it away before he informed her that they would be setting sail in fifteen minutes. "Would you like to join the others on the promenade?" he questioned.

"No, father. I'd prefer to stay here. I like it here. It's quiet."

He smiled at her and placed his hands upon the wooden banister, studying the crowds as she did. She could feel the excitement building inside her as she waited for the ship to be cast off and for their journey at sea to begin. She loved the sea and it had been too long since she had felt the simple joy it brought her.

Grace watched anxiously as the seaman on the bow cast off the moorings when the time arrived for Titanic to set sail. She could hear the ringing of the telegraphs coming from the bridge behind her as the officers on deck communicated with the engine room below. A few moments later she could hear the distant hum of the engines starting up and feel the lull of their motion. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back a bit and allowed herself to enjoy the moment.

A loud snapping sound pulled her back to her senses. She opened her eyes quickly and looked around. She was horrified by what she saw. The S.S. New York had broken free of her moorings and was headed straight for Titanic. Grace quickly jumped down from the landing and ran toward the wing cab with her father close behind her. She gripped the wooden banister on the low-lying wall that separated the bridge from the remainder of the boat deck and leaned over to watch the terrible scene unfold. However, almost as quickly as it had started, it stopped. Titanic shut off her engines, and a tugboat stopped the New York's momentum. The disaster had been averted. Grace took a deep breath and looked down at her hands. She had not realized how tightly she'd been holding onto the banister. She released her grasp and let her hands fall to her sides. She tried to steady herself. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned her head to find her father standing beside her. "Why don't you go inside now? You look shaken. It will be a while before we're underway again, and I'm afraid that I'll have to leave you now and attend to some business. You'll be alright on your own?"

She nodded her head. She did not trust her voice enough to speak. She then turned and made her way to the first class entrance, and the safety of her stateroom.


End file.
